


A Certain Kind of Loneliness

by KLStarre



Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Coming of Age, Gen, Honestly not sure what to tag this, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Fey Wild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-24 04:35:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18564016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KLStarre/pseuds/KLStarre
Summary: Beverly goes back to Hillhome and it's exactly the same, but he's not.





	A Certain Kind of Loneliness

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through the end of the A Faerie Tale arc, specifically for episodes 57-59. Read at your own risk

There’s a certain kind of loneliness that comes with knowing something your mother doesn’t, Beverly Toegold V reflected, hand frozen just before knocking on the door to the family house in Hillhome. Hardwon and Moonshine had gone somewhere else, at his request; he didn’t know where. This had felt like one quest he had to complete himself.

The thing was, now that he was here, he didn’t want to. He was used to loneliness, was the thing. He had been missing his family and the Green Teens and Erlin and the Kindleafs and everyone he had ever known for months now. He was used to loneliness. What he wasn’t used to was being responsible for telling his mother that he hadn’t been able to save the love of her life. What he wasn’t used to was deciding whether to tell her he was dead, or to tell her the truth. What he wasn’t used to was being an adventurer, even after all this time, because he was a kid, dammit, and his sixteenth birthday shouldn’t have been spent drunk and grieving a father who was still alive.

He knocked. It wasn’t intentional, but his body knew the right thing to do. And he always did the right thing, if he knew what it was.

It swung open immediately, and there was Martha Toegold, there was his _mom_ , apron and hands covered in flour. She froze when she saw him, just for a second, just for long enough to take in his full armor and the scar on his face that hadn’t faded, and the way his eyes looked older, somehow. “Bev,” she whispered, then, unable to speak fully, and Beverly felt the tears running down his cheeks before he even processed that he was about to cry. “Bev,” she said again, and he stepped forward and hugged her, almost gingerly. As if he was afraid of hurting her.

“Mom,” Beverly choked out, and she pulled him to her, running her hands through his hair like she always had. All the time in the Fey Wild, all the time in Shadowfell, it hadn’t happened here – it had been twenty-five days since she had last seen him, and in that time he had aged months.

“Where’s your dad?” she asked, and he could hear it in her voice that she was afraid of the answer, but, also, that there was no world in which she could not ask.

Beverly tensed, but he doubted she could feel it through the armor. This was the moment. What did he tell her? What _could_ he tell her? “He’s gone,” he said, eventually, and it wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Before all this, before his grand adventure, he had never kept anything from his mother. To think he had used to want to be a hero. “In the Fey Wild. He was…he was saving as many people as he could.”

He felt her nod, almost as if she had been expecting it. And maybe she had been. The whole Toegold family had died tragic deaths, after all, why should his dad be any different? For that matter, why should _he?_

“Come on inside, Bev,” she said, eventually, and he released the hug reluctantly. It had been a long, long time since he had felt safe. She held the door open for him and he stepped inside, into the house he knew so well. It felt wrong, somehow; too quiet, too soft. Too much like he used to be. They walked to the sitting room, the two of them, and Beverly did his best not to look his mom in the eyes. She was trying to be strong for him, he could tell, and he appreciated it, but also he couldn’t stand it. He just wanted her to grieve with him, he wanted to be able to tell her the truth, he wanted to not be lonely anymore, for one, single minute.

They sat next to each other on the couch that Beverly had knocked a front tooth out jumping on when he was nine, and he couldn’t help but lean against her, closing his eyes and trying to be a kid again. She was warm, and he was home. He was home. (He tried not to think about the fact that his real home was destroyed, and his dad was gone, and soon he’d have to leave, anyway. He was home.)

“Tell me where you’ve been,” Beverly’s mom said, and he did.

¥

Beverly and Erlin sat on Beverly’s bed, legs crossed and facing each other. They hadn’t seen each other since. Well. Since _everything_ , really, and neither of them knew how to handle it. They had hugged, had kissed almost shyly, and now it felt like they were both waiting for the other to break the ice.

Beverly took a deep breath. “I have to tell you something,” he said, which sounded ridiculous, even to his ears. Of  _course_ he had to tell him something. He had to tell him everything. “I, um. I –” he couldn’t even look Erlin in the eyes, which was typical, these days. There was a certain kind of loneliness in never knowing when he’d see the people he loved.

Looking at the ground, drumming his fingers on his leg, he tried again. “I kissed someone else. I didn’t mean to, I knew it was wrong, I told him there was someone else when he tried to kiss me but then I did it anyway and then I ran away like a coward and I know it’s not an excuse but I’m so lonely, Erlin. I just wanted everything to maybe be normal for a couple hours, and I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d even be alive, and then my dad – ”

He choked up. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t keep what had happened from Erlin but he couldn’t say it, either.

There was silence for a moment, and then, still not looking up, Beverly felt Erlin’s arms around his shoulders as he pulled him to him. Beverly’s head was against his best friend’s chest and he could hear his heart beat as Erlin ran his fingers through his hair.

“What happened?” Erlin asked, and Beverly could hear the strain in his voice, but it wasn’t angry. It was just sad.

“He – ” Beverly paused, swallowed, reached cautiously for Erlin’s hand which wasn’t currently in his hair and then, when he wasn’t rebuffed, clutched it like a lifeline. “He made a deal with Akarot. With the devil’s son. In order to protect me and Hardwon and Moonshine and the whole Fey Wild from Thiala but he sold his _soul_ and now he’s _gone_ and he told me to tell my mom he’s dead.”

He paused again, and Erlin didn’t respond, maybe sensing that the person he’d been best friends with since birth had changed. Maybe sensing that there was more to say.

“I don’t think I can be a Green Knight anymore.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? The crux of everything. Beverly Toegold V had always known exactly who he was: future Green Knight, fifth of his name, follower of Pelor, and _very_ good boy. But now everything was falling apart and all he had left was his friends and his mom and _Erlin_ , his light, but he knew all too well that they could all be snatched away in a second and there would be nothing he could do about it. So if he couldn’t protect them, couldn’t protect _anyone_ , then he might as well swear to avenge them. Pelor would understand.

Erlin didn’t say anything, instead pulling Beverly closer, for once not the one who needed protecting.


End file.
